CAUSE & EFFECT
Artist Jackie Nickerson uses photography to tell stories of human nature.
Sophie Tedmanson: “This is your first Vogue cover and, in fact, you shot all the main fashion for this issue. How did you find it, and what is the story behind the cover shoot?” Jackie Nickerson: “A great experience. The Bella and Jordan story was based on an updated version of pre-Raphaelite painting that celebrates nature and realism through colour and texture and deals with subjects like love and death.” ST: “You also photographed the exquisite shoots in Japan – what was the theme behind those two shoots?”
JN: “I wanted to create images that not only show the beautiful clothes but also have a strong idea or identity, because ultimately I’m creating an atmosphere that tries to convey what it’s like visiting Japan. So there’s elegance, but also a bit of rawness thrown in. We wanted to make images in diverse environments that complemented and emphasised the concept and detail in the clothes.” ST: “You have dipped in and out of fashion over the years. What is it about fashion that keeps drawing you back?” JN: “Fine art and fashion are two totally different applications of photography, so although you’re using the
same medium, you need to use an entirely different approach. In fashion you have an end use, and you’re collaborating with a team of energetic, focused people to create this. In fine art you are working on your own, in a world of your own. So it’s refreshing. It’s exciting to take a few days working on fashion projects with a fun group of people.” ST: “Which fashion houses do you most enjoy working with, and how do you balance the requirements of a client with creative freedom as an artist? Do you feel there is a new modern creativity in fashion photography in this current era?”
JN: “I think we all look for inspiration from things outside our immediate practice, so, for example, a designer might look at architecture or industrial design, painting, sculpture and other art forms. But often they’re not looking for a literal translation of one thing to another, but a kind of wider context of an aesthetic or opinion. So through collaboration we can build up an impression or atmosphere that will help the designer to portray his or her vision. For me, each collaboration is a separate conversation, and working out how we can make images that respect that. And although you need to use an entirely different approach (we’re talking about two totally different applications of photography), it would be difficult to separate the artist, because I think about imagery all the time. I’m obsessed. It’s part of my everyday life.” ST: “Describe your photography practice in your own terms.” JN: “I think my interest in a subject comes first and then I have to figure out if it’s something that can translate into an image. It’s a challenge because I want to push
“LIVING IN RURAL AFRICA GAVE ME A FEELING OF SPACE AND FREEDOM”
the boundaries of what kind of photographs I can make and discover more ways of seeing. In a way, you are developing yourself. I’ve always been interested in cause and effect. It’s a basic premise of life. It’s like a history lesson. So that leads to how we are all affected by our environment. My work originates from my life experience.” ST: “Do you see fashion as an art form? Is a dress a work of art within your image?” JN: “Yes, I believe some designers are artists and their clothing can be seen as art.” ST: “You spent 15 years in fashion before moving to Africa for your first book. What precipitated the move?” JN: “In 1997 I was invited to visit Zimbabwe and decided to move there. I didn’t move there to make images; I went because I needed to change my life completely. I was burnt out. After a few months I picked up a camera again and actually started making that work. It was never intended for any end use. I just did it because I wanted to.” ST: “You move between Ireland and sub-Saharan Africa. What is it about these two parts of the world that make you feel so at home?”
JN: “I’m not Irish, and although it’s great to have a house here, and I enjoy my time here, it’s not a defining factor in my practice. What does inform my work is that I live in the countryside. Being close to nature, seeing the seasons change, seeing the moon rise, the sun set – all these things are important to me. I lived in Zimbabwe from 1997 to 2001. I’m from an urban background, where I’ve lived in confined spaces and environments made up of concrete. For me, space has always been a precious commodity. Living in rural Africa gave me a feeling of space and freedom and a different perspective on life. I exchanged an indoor life for an outdoor life.” ST: “Your most recent books have documented farming and agriculture in Africa and religion in Ireland. What is it about these subjects in particular that made you want to showcase them?” JN: “My work originates from my own life experience. My first series, Farm, was really about personal identity through improvisation, whereas
Terrain is about wider, global issues: labour, the environment and the value we place on those things. I want to address political issues around food security, sustainability and human rights. The photographs utilise portraiture and landscape to present an idea of the synergy between the natural world and the human world, acknowledging the integration of the person, their produce and environment.
Faith is about a life of silence, about communities that are steeped in a radical interior life that is not their own but something wider and deeper than themselves, which they are a part of.” ST: “You shot the Time magazine cover of Dr Jerry Brown in 2014 and documented the Liberian Ebola fighters. That was extraordinary work – congratulations on being the first woman in the 87-year history of Time magazine to shoot the Person of the Year cover. How important was that for you, and what did it mean personally?”
JN: “Yes, Time magazine asked me to travel to Liberia at the height of the Ebola epidemic. I worked with Aryn Baker, a journalist, and Paul Moakley, a Time editor and film-maker. We hit the ground running and worked at a very fast pace, covering as many scenarios as we could in the week we were there. When we landed at the airport in Monrovia [Liberia’s capital], there were dozens of health-care workers at the airport who escorted the passengers off the
plane. They took my temperature, asked me a number of medical questions then instructed me in the various health protocols I needed to comply with. I suddenly realised this was very serious.
“Dr Jerry Brown is on the Time magazine Person of the Year cover. He operated the most successful Ebola treatment unit in Monrovia, with no backing of any NGOs. He was an obstetrician, but he kept his hospital open to treat Ebola patients. He is an incredibly brave man. I met many health workers whose self-sacrifice was unbelievable. I just concentrated on them. They told the story themselves. I feel extremely humbled and honoured to be part of this story.” ST: “You must have seen some confronting things. Does the camera allow you to stay removed from that?” JN: “I would say the opposite. Without a camera I would be more likely to avoid a situation, whereas when I’m working, the camera brings you closer to a subject.” ST: “Your documentation photos rarely show faces. Why is that? Does leaving a sense of ambiguity give the viewer something to think about?”
JN: “I don’t set out to portray anyone in any specific way. I set out to photograph exactly what’s in front of me, to see what’s actually there. The key is trying to find a visual language that illustrates what I observe and experience.
“In Terrain, the idea of sculptural figures was inspired by seeing Oscar. I was sitting at the side of a field and he was standing sideways exactly like in the photo and it had an immediate impact. I began to see how the farmers were obscured or overwhelmed by their produce. I showed Oscar and the other guys on the farm the picture and asked them if they could think of anything that would produce a similar effect. It became a collaborative process. Whenever I went to a new place, I would show the guys the pictures of Oscar and ask if they could make suggestions from their own environment. All the elements and arrangements come from the sitters themselves. I was aware that this had to be a process of re-creation rather than creation. Also, how do we challenge perceptions of working people? How do we give the person being photographed ownership of his or her own image? What comes into play here is the balance of power between photographer and sitter, but also between sitter and viewer. When we can’t see the face of the person in the photo it makes us feel uncomfortable. We don’t automatically think the person in the photograph has chosen not to engage on the viewers’ terms. Scrutiny can be a bit weird.
“The idea was to initiate a conversation about status and portraiture, the place that status has in our culture, society and art. The initial idea was centred on the nature and definition of portraiture; how portraits are viewed and how we interpret them. Also, how by using the material objects in the pictures we can begin to decipher the image and have a more comprehensive idea about who the sitter is.” ST: “Human rights are becoming more prevalent in today’s political climate. How important is that to you and how much does that inform your work?” JN: “If you’re not interested in human rights then you don’t have a soul.” ST: “Ultimately, what do you want your photos to tell the viewer?” JN: “As soon as you publish a photograph, in a way, you cease to have any control over it. It becomes public property and everyone is going to have their own opinion about what they see in the work and how they form an opinion about it. I think it’s important to listen to all the voices that have an opinion about the work you make, because then you can learn something and grow. It’s something you have to learn to live with.” ST: “What does identity mean to you, and how do you explore this in your imagery?” JN: “Identity is a dangerous word. It’s used to create an otherness, but I don’t look for otherness, I look at the person. I want to see the ‘personness’, not the box they fit into. In fact, I want to break them out of the box they’ve been put into so you’re not merely looking at the likeness of someone. I guess it’s about having a uniqueness, a selfhood and a self-possession that transcends the intervention of the artist. In effect, it’s about making the artist invisible and having the sitter take ownership of their own image.” ST: “What’s your view on the representation of females in fashion media now?” JN: “I recently bought a couple of vintage Vogues from the 1950s, and apart from the clothes, and a stylistic difference, I don’t think the imagery has, in essence, moved on, because you know we are looking at a commercial application and there’s a formula that works. Saying that, in those old Vogues, there was only one way for a woman to be. Now there’s wider representation of different types of women and lifestyles. I think the attitude and personality of the model is becoming more important, and we are seeing a broader definition of beauty.” ST: “What was your main source of inspiration for the photographic series shown in the National Gallery of Ireland?”
JN: “I was invited to work with the National Gallery curator Brendan Rooney, and I decided to exhibit portraits of agricultural workers in several southern African countries [published in her book Terrain], with paintings from the gallery collection. By pairing paintings from the collection and photographs from Terrain we began a forensic investigation into the notion of identity and status.
“When pairing contemporary photographs with paintings from the National Gallery of Ireland collection, we started seeing visual similarities – recurring shapes, replicated poses and similar ideas in composition. When we took the face out the equation, the portrait became more about form, shape and status – a template of what classical composition is made up of – but it also opened a conversation about how we interpret pictures and about the choices an artist makes to build a narrative. We began to question the content and the reasons for inclusion and exclusion.” ST: “Portraiture, often merging with landscape, is central to your photographic practice – what is gained by contextualising individuals within their communities? Are you consciously inviting the viewer to attempt an understanding of your subjects in relation to their communities?” JN: “I’ve always been interested in cause and effect, so I’m specifically interested in how we are all affected by our environment and in our shared social and psychological experiences, the relationship between being and appearance … to explore seen moments that exist in the everyday. What I try to do is to see what is actually in front of me, what it is I’m actually looking at. So I suppose the landscapes become antiiconic. I don’t think of the land as either submissive or untamed, rather, I see a landscape that reveals evidence of human labour. I suppose they don’t really read as documentary images of labour conditions, but are more a kind of impressionistic documentary. A portrait of one person can be a metonym for a whole community.” ST: “When working so closely with people, how do you maintain your status as an observer? Is that important?” JN: “I can only say that I don’t feel like an observer or an outsider who has no connection to the people I photograph. We are all just people. Everyone’s different. It’s all about your connection with the person you’re talking to. I just want to go ahead and use my own instincts to make pictures of things that interest me, in environments that interest me and of people who interest me.”
“AS SOON AS YOU PUBLISH A PHOTOGRAPH, IN A WAY, YOU CEASE TO HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER IT”